The Doomed
by regina-nigra
Summary: What happens to those sessions that failed? The ones that never quite got to create their own universe? Do they just float, in their own timeline, stuck? -this is my first HS story, so I'd appreciate reviews! ouo-


It was quiet. You had just went to bed after a day of running around with your friends in town. You had gone from shop to shop, giggling over things inside and just joking around. Most of you were in homestuck cosplay today, celebrating April 13th. You yourself had dressed up as Karkat again; you had always loved his character. One of your friends had gone as Gamzee, and another as Rose. It was all good fun. Then, you all went your separate ways and went home. You had taken a few selfies of your cosplay and posted them online, hoping someone would like it as well. If no one did, oh well; it was still good fun. After that, you had a long shower, getting all the all the grey paint off. Your wig was put back on its mannequin head, and your horns and teeth put into a container for your cosplays. Your mother called you down for dinner around six, and you rushed down to get some before your brother or father did; you always loved her cooking.

You cared for your family deeply, and they you in return. You knew you could always talk to your mother, and joke around with your father. You knew you could push your brother around, and have him beat you in video games for revenge. He would always help you with your homework, and help you when school was getting to be a bit too much. They would always be there for you to make you happy.

So you had dinner, and went up to your room to mess around online. You roleplayed a little while, checked for any updates, and reblog a few things on Tumblr. There was news of some roleplay game coming out that was_ supposed_ to resemble SBURB. Gosh, the fans were really dedicated, huh? If only you had money... Finally, you went to bed around midnight, happy as could be. Everything was okay, and you wouldn't give this up for the world.

You heard there was going to be a meteor shower tonight. You wonder if they would start falling before you head off to bed. You didn't want to seem them yourself, but you had a bad feeling about it...

Too bad, huh?

You woke up drenched in a puddle of... something, with your hair plastered to your face and pain shooting through your leg. The sky above you was bright, and the heat almost unbearable. Raising an arm above your face, you let your eyes adjust to the sight around you. You were in front of your house, but it was... different. Instead being a simple two-story house, it stretched all the way into the sky, going so high you couldn't see the top from here. The walls were crumbling, and falling apart at some parts, and you could see remnants of something hitting them very, very hard. Looking below, you could see your family's car, the one that had kept you four going for years, on fire and crashed into the house. You were about to get up and see what the fuck was going on, but the pain shooting through your leg stopped you. Looking down, you tried to find out if it was broken, or if you twisted something. Well, you would have if you hadn't noticed your clothes, and the blood drenching them. You were wearing an outfit you knew well, one you were so familiar with that it was as though you were simply back out in town, cosplaying again. It was the outfit for your god-tier. Or at least the one you had assigned yourself.. But... it's not like you wore it to bed? Maybe you were just dreaming- no, you wouldn't be feeling pain then... And what was with all this blood? You tugged at the top, hoping to pull it away from your chest. It came away with a sickly slurp, the blood having drenched all the way through. Just where did it come from? You looked around, hoping to find out more, but there was a surprise in store for you. All around you were volcanoes, smoking and rumbling ominously. Dotting the ground beneath them were hundreds, maybe thousands of bones. They all looked ancient, and were of monumental sizes. Hell, one of the skulls near you was the size of your chest! And lying right next to you was-...

You remember now. You don't know why you had forgotten. Lying next to you, with their arms wrapped around your waist, was your brother. He had been the only one left when you had entered, and had stayed in the house while you went off exploring. Your mother and father had died when you entered. Apparently not even your front yard was safe when meteors were hurtling down. You had gone off and found some villages full of talking geckos, and spoke with them. Your brother was guiding you along the way, relaying information from your friends since you didn't have anything more than a dingy phone, and your sylladex was shitty for anything larger than a book.

Your friends and you had started the game what seemed like years ago, and you six were so hyped. All of you were ready to jump into some sandbox game, or rpg, or fps, or whatever the game was going to be; you didn't care, it was new and seemed exciting. Well, that excitement wore off when it started raining meteors and you were stuck with two minutes to get the hell outta dodge. And when your parents died a fiery death before your eyes at the hands of flaming balls of rock.

You had gotten into the medium with seconds to spare, your brother freaking out over everything in the living room and your server player yelling at you to calm him the fuck down from your laptop. After that, it was more of a hit-and-run sort of thing with anything you came across. Your brother and you had grabbed some things that were lying around to use for weapons- he picked up a wrench, and you picked up a giant stick your parents used to whack the light when it wasn't working. The two of you had gone outside of the house, and seen the new land you were in.

You had fought the imps and ogres together, climbing the echeladder and just raking IN the grist and boondollars. The one problem was that there was no way to talk to your server player out here. With all your fighting and exploring, you couldn't stop to hold the phone to your face every two minutes to get an update on how everyone was going. And you couldn't install chat on your shitty phone, either. So, with truckloads of convincing, you got your brother to go back to the house and watch things from there with your friend. He sent you mass texts over your phone that you could check later, and fought off anything that came in the house.

Then, what seemed like months later, after so many battles, and so many echeladder climbs, and so many talking geckos, you found your quest-bed. You climbed into it, messaged your friends one last time if you didn't make it, and told you brother you loved him. You texted your friend to end you, all of you being aware of just what these slabs were for by now. You had found out a while ago, through time shenanigans and your own sprites.

So, they dropped a giant knife on you after you fell asleep. So much fun it was, getting stabbed in the chest with a sharp, pointed piece of metal. After that, you had ascended, and everything went to hell.

Turns out, you really_ were_ a Knight of Doom, chosen to protect your teammates from the horrible prophecies you saw. After you ascended, your friends had methodically found their own quest-beds, but things went horribly wrong. One of them died before he could find it, and another died before she could force herself upon it. Their dreamselves disappeared before you could find them, or even contact them. The only thing you could find were a few puddles of blood. The lucky who managed to ascend and escape the dream bubbles were weak from battling off the unexpected hordes that came afterwards. Something was definitely wrong. Even the sprites were unsettled.

Then the handful of you left in your group of what had originally been ten had decided to go all or nothing and run out to the battlefield. The Reckoning hadn't started yet but..., with almost half your team dead or in the middle of a vanishing act including your damned space player, what was there to lose besides some incomplete frog and these deadbeat bodies if you died heroically?

Well.

That plan went surprisingly well at first.

One of the players on your team, a maid of breath had distracted the Black King, and the other four of you had jumped him, striking from all sides with your weapons. As stupid as the plan was, it somehow worked. Apparently, prototyping sprites with random objects first was a pretty good idea. You think using a pillow really drove it home...

One final hit, and the Black King was slain, he was down for the count, no more tangos with swords, the whole Shammo. It would have been wonderful, fantastic, G, if half your team wasn't dead. And if two more weren't bleeding out for stab wounds they took to protect the others. Those selfless bastards forgot you can't really die when you're god-tier and took the hits. If only they didn't...

Now the three of you left just sort of... wandered around. Your time player was searching for your space player, or at least some copy of her in a timeline, and your last friend, a sweet, sweet Rogue of Hope had locked herself away on her planet. The only one you had left to talk to was your brother.

And then you finally checked your phone.

Dozens and dozens of texts from him asking if you were okay, how was the plan going, did you win, did everyone survive, when were you coming home. Most of them were the same thing over and over again until the last few text messages. They were him, of course. Begging for you to come home. That the imps had somehow drove the family car into the side of the house. That he was outside when it happened, and was hiding under it now. That he could see them getting closer.

By the time you reached him, he was almost gone. The imps were standing around, watching as an ogre tossed him around like a ragdoll. You had slain the beast with a staff you had alchemised ages ago, and the imps had scattered. Your brother was barely conscious, and you could tell his eyes were hazed over. Your knees had given out, and you fell, kneeling in front of him. Tears had glazed your eyes, why did this have to happen? He had reached out to you, and weakly wrapped his arms around you for the last time.

God, why did this have to happen? Why couldn't you have just gotten through this, created the new universe, kept everyone alive, been HAPPY? Lordy, you wish you had never picked up that fucking game and installed. You held him in your arms, crying and yelling as his life slipped away. Broken.

You don't know how long you sat there. You just know it was long enough to where you lost control of your powers. Visions, of death and doom plagued you and fueled your sorrow. They sank into you and made you lose yourself.

And I suppose... that's where we are now. Looking around yourself, you couldn't muster up any emotion. You were drained. You were tired.

You were done with it all.

* * *

So... This is my first Homestuck fic? I'd appreciate reviews, if you don't mind too much! omo


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